DISCLAIMER: This post may offend as I haven’t edited it for political correctness. If in the event you are offended I would like to take the time and effort to personally offend you, so that you will forever know the difference between feigning outrage at an opinion you don’t agree with and actually being purposely insulted.
One of the most attractive qualities a person can have is authenticity. Authenticity is rare, which is why it is so highly prized. The difficulty with authenticity or acquiring it, is that it involves us thinking for ourselves, taking charge of our own lives and finally living our truths. Lately I have been seeing a lot of people referencing this particular Bukowski quote:
There is inherently nothing wrong with quoting Bukowski. However what irks me is that the people who quote him so often seem to be the very same people Bukowski warned us about associating with.
- beware the preachers
- beware the knowers
- beware those who are always reading books
- beware those who either detest poverty or are proud of it
- beware those quick to praise for they need praise in return
- beware those who are quick to censor they are afraid of what they do not know
- beware those who seek constant crowds for they are nothing alone
- beware the average man the average woman
- beware their love, their love is average seeks average
And please don’t misunderstand me. I am writing about a trend I see a lot in blogs as well as in my daily life. Let me summarize it for you:
The more profound the desperation and or mediocrity in certain person’s life the more they they to conceal their emptiness with affixing to themselves bits of someone else’s legacy like some demented type of merit badge.
There are so many unhappy people who have lost the thread tying them to that longing for that something we can never put into words. It took me some time to realize that no one can make me happy, no relationship can fulfill me 100%, no paycheck will every be large enough for me to fulfill every single desire. I recognize and live with that longing and that longing has opened me up to so many new things.
It’s one thing to draw inspiration and live vicariously through the works of another person. It’s another thing to shield one’s self from reality using someone’s work. That’s my main point.
What do you feel going crazy means?
To lively crazy to me, and I could be fucked up, is to be vulnerable and open. To not lie to oneself’s about life, how things are, about our mortality. Bukowski wrote and for a long time lived at the fringes of our society. Being crazy means being honest and not bringing a laptop into a bar, or walking with a Starbucks coffee cup so people know we drink at Starbucks (yes this fucking happens). I just find so much of our society fake and of course people full of shit.
- Is it having a nice house, and kids who you love but who’s presence in your life has sodomized your dreams and spirit into dank submission ?
- Is going crazy getting drunk and exposing your genitals to strangers?
- Is going crazy trying to feed a family of 3 on a single minimum wage salary ?
- Is going crazy staying with a spouse that no longer makes your heart and other parts tingle, and you masturbate in the bathroom because … well you know?
ok rant done